


highway skies and thunder seas

by miikkaa_xx



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 18:25:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/916534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miikkaa_xx/pseuds/miikkaa_xx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off <a href="http://24.media.tumblr.com/b6674c1cf283683c7408a70612d5a25b/tumblr_mr661ynkBM1rv1d8ho4_500.gif">this gif</a> from the <i>Thor: The Dark World</i> trailer.</p><p>Thor teaches Loki respect, but the lesson is a little skewed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	highway skies and thunder seas

**Author's Note:**

> **warnings:** slight dom/sub undertones, explicit sexual content, language. this work is unbeta'd - please feel free to point out any errors in prose and/or characterisation.

-

The waters are still and clear when they cast off. Malekith has called for negotiations yesterday night and Loki had snorted, crumpling the paper in his fist once Thor had passed it to him. 

‘It’s a trap,’ he sneers. Thor’s mouth twists in displeasure. 

‘We do not know this,’ he presses, insistent in his ignorance, and Loki scowls, reclining in his chair as they sit in his rooms. Frigga stands beside him, regal and golden, her face creased in worry. 

‘Loki is correct in this,’ she adds, quiet, a hand reaching out to lay her fingers over Loki’s shoulder. Loki hums his agreement, his wrists tinkling with its chains as he adjusts them in his lap, straightening his back to feel the gentle pressure of her palm on his shoulder better. 

Thor turns on his heel, weighing them both in his gaze. Loki meets him by raising his gaze – undaunted. 

‘I won’t go alone,’ Thor decides, voice rough but steady. ‘I will take Loki and Jane.’ 

Loki traces his teeth with the tip of his tongue and he feels Frigga’s grip tighten just slightly. ‘You’re making a mistake.’ 

‘I have no other choice,’ Thor says, despair colouring his tone, and Loki preens to hear it some more. Wants to see his brother break under the weight of his choices and consequences, but there’s the matter of… 

‘Your mortal. She will be in danger,’ he says, tries to keep his voice light. 

‘You will protect her,’ replies Thor without missing a beat. Thor’s eyes are blue ice moons and they cut somewhere deep into Loki that he has refused to acknowledge for decades upon centuries. Instead, Loki gives a tight smile, holding himself together for tonight is not the opportune moment to strike. 

A day later, Loki ends up here, on a boat, between his brother and the mortal. Her name is Jane, a scientist, and she loathes him, which is her decision. Mortals are – by far – the weakest of the Nine Realms, which is why Thor had been made protector of it by Odin. There is no protector for Svartalfheim or Niflheim, only Midgard gets this embarrassing appointment. 

The first few hours are taken up between Jane crawling up and down the boat like an irritating insect, asking Thor about this mechanism and that. Thor – instructed in all weapons and transport of war – answers her with a surprising detail and knowledge, his voice even and patient as worry creases the lines on his brow. 

Eventually, Jane takes to research silently and retreats below deck to inspect the living quarters built in. There are two rooms and two beds, knows Loki as he slides his gaze over to Thor, and Loki only intends to sleep in one particular – mortal be damned. 

‘The seas will end soon, it’s time to engage the oars,’ murmurs Loki helpfully even when he knows Thor is quite aware of said fact with the way his brother’s eyes track the horizon. 

‘Stay here, I will get Jane and start our ascent,’ says Thor, not even looking at him, and Loki grits his teeth in irritation. 

‘I can do that as well – I’m no cripple, Thor.’ 

‘I am well aware of what you can do, brother,’ replies the other, opening the hatch on deck, ready to climb down below. ‘Try not to throw yourself overboard.’ 

Loki would’ve thrown Thor overboard had he the power, but the chains swing and clank from his wrists, and he only has his anger and tongue to fight for him. ‘Do be quick then – it’d be a pity if I were to disappear while you were sticking your cock into her mortal cunt.’ 

The reaction is instantaneous – Thor whirls on him, red cape fluttering in his own man-made breeze as he levels Loki with a heavy, sharp gaze. ‘Do not speak of her that way.’ 

‘Why not? She’s not _my_ bitch,’ sneers Loki, and he would be lying if Thor’s eyes resting on her, his voice even and patient, does not make his nostalgic hackles rise. Thor used to give him the same attention, the same softness. 

‘You will restrain your tongue, brother,’ snarls Thor, stalking towards him, the hatch of the deck falling closed in a loud thump that echoes Thor’s approaching footsteps. It’s a wonder Jane won’t come peeping out like a mouse to see the commotion, but Loki doesn’t care what her insignificant eyes witness upon. 

Thor is on him in an instant – a powerful figure of broad shoulders, exposed biceps and cold eyes. ‘I don’t ask you to speak to her, acknowledge her, nor interact with her,’ says Thor, clear and concise, ‘but I will ask you refer to her with the respect of another being. Do you understand?’ 

Loki swallows, eyes wide, feeling Thor’s eyes on him – a heavy, familiar weight. ‘And if I refuse, dear brother? What will you do? Throw me off this boat and – along with me – a chance for negotiation with Malekith?’ 

‘You push my patience,’ growls Thor. The previously still waves get a bit rougher, knocking against the boat, the wind picking up. Loki likes this – Loki wants to push it for all it’s worth. 

‘I’m here for you, Thor,’ says Loki, ‘not anyone else, not anything else. I don’t care about Asgard, I don’t care about these elves and their nonsense leader, and I don’t care about your walking cunt of a mortal.’ 

It seems to hit something in Thor – poke at a thing long lost in his controlled demeanour. In a breath, Thor’s fist is enclosed around Loki’s throat and his eyes are half-lidded with understanding at what Loki pushes at, because Thor has always read Loki’s wants as easily as his own. 

It’s stifling – how vulnerable and slashed open Loki’s insides feel when he is confronted with the blue of his brother’s eyes. Still, he tries for defense – bares his teeth in barely-felt irritation as his pulse ratchets upwards. The waves have calmed, the wind vanishing entirely. The world is calm and under control, and – along with it – is Thor. 

‘If you’re here for me,’ says Thor quietly, ‘then you will do as I say.’ 

‘I don’t want to,’ replies Loki simply, breathlessly, eyes wide as his hands hang limply before him. 

The realization hits him a second later. ‘You would force me.’ It has his brother stepping back, incredulous laughter caught in his throat. His hand leaves Loki’s throat entirely and his face tossed upwards at the sky in surprise. ‘You would still crave such things.’ 

Suddenly, Loki feels embarrassed, caught like a small child with his hand on his cock by his mother. It’s humiliating, and though his dick twitches with a burst of arousal at the gaze leveled on him by his brother only a moment later, he tries to save face with a mocking smirk. ‘You delude yourself, Thor.’ 

‘Do I?’ Thor’s hand is back on his throat, forcing Loki’s head back. ‘ _Do I_?’ 

Loki takes a breath, the smile gone from his mouth. He doesn’t dare say a word. 

‘I asked you a question, dear brother,’ says Thor, his voice dropping an octave in seriousness. ‘I expect an answer.’ 

Loki wets his mouth. ‘No.’ 

It seems to please Thor, whose grip loosens and his other hand is sliding down Loki’s ribs warmly, gently. ‘That’s what I thought.’ The waves are a hushed murmur, the wind a gentle breeze, as the sun catches the horizon and laves Thor in gold and pink and royal, holy colours of gods. Loki swallows, captivated, and his mind is vaguely horrified at how easily Thor can make him submit, but it’s too late to care. 

‘Now, will you respect Jane, brother?’ asks Thor, playing into Loki’s game with both eyes open, control at the same fingertips that are skimming underneath Loki’s outer armour. 

‘No,’ says Loki, smirk smeared over his mouth, his response a minor rebellion that he’s silently begging Thor to quell. 

Thor hums, low in his throat, and he tugs roughly at the chest plate. ‘You should know better.’ 

‘You should’ve taught me better, big brother,’ sneers Loki, and is caught off-guard when Thor clenches his grip on Loki’s throat until there is no chance for breath. Loki chokes, stutters, and his hands are already clawing at Thor’s grip, the chains loud and clanking over the still sea air. 

‘First lesson, when your brother tells you to strip off your armour, you do it,’ says Thor – deceptively calm. The attention has Loki’s spine melting, has his fingers skittering over himself as each piece of armour falls onto the deck with a thump. Maybe Jane will come up from the commotion. Loki’s breath catches – maybe Jane will _see_. 

‘Second – the clothes.’ Thor’s hand is still on his neck, still a firm grip, keeping Loki just on this side of breathless as Loki toes off his boots, pants, and shrugs off the overcoat, the fabric passing through the chain links of his manacles on his wrists. Seidr always had such practical uses. With but the tunic left, Thor releases his hand from Loki’s neck and lets his brother strip the last thing away, standing lean and pale on the deck, chained up but still imperious. 

‘Happy?’ drawls Loki, and his cock is already standing at attention. It helps that Thor also adjusts his stance, likely cause of his own cock. Thor’s hands curl themselves over Loki’s hips – possessive – and presses his fingertips into the skin. 

‘Let’s try again,’ says Thor but his voice is catching somewhere in the back of his throat, coming out a little sandpaper rough around the edges. Loki’s knees threaten to buckle. ‘You will pay due respect to Jane during her stay here or else.’ 

‘Else what, brother? You’ll hurt me?’ Loki tilts his head, tracking Thor’s eyes, wanting nothing more but to reach forward and _touch_. 

‘No,’ says Thor, ‘I’ll fuck you.’ 

The groan that erupts from Loki’s throat is completely unbidden and he tries to restrain it but it is too late. A victorious gleam is in his brother’s eyes, the sweep of callouses from his palms as they trace away from Loki’s hips to curl over his ass, parting them to trace Loki’s entrance with a edge of a fingernail. 

‘I think you’d like that,’ mentions Thor casually. 

‘Fuck you,’ snaps Loki but the effect is lost when he keens as Thor pushes his finger inside of Loki – dry and ruthless. 

‘Would you like that?’ Thor’s hand retreats so he can spit on it before sliding back inside of Loki. ‘For me to have you on my cock every time you paid her any attention? Every time you said her name with her doctor prefix? To reward your complacency with a fuck each night?’ 

Loki squirms, unwilling to lose this early, even if this is everything he wants, everything he’s craved. 

‘You would,’ decides Thor for him, pushing the second finger completely dry into him. ‘Just like you want it like this – all pain and no preparation.’ 

‘Shit,’ curses Loki, his hands thrown up to grip at Thor’s tunic as his brother relentlessly pushes and pulls his fingers inside of Loki’s ass. ‘You sick bastard.’ Thor turns his head, his chin nudging for Loki to curve his head into Thor’s neck. 

‘Am I?’ asks the other, his mouth laying minute kisses down Loki’s throat – all care and softness – and Loki can’t breathe from the affection and attention, pain and pleasure, drowning his brain in neurotransmitters as his hips begin to rock back on Thor’s hands. 

‘She’ll come up here, y’know,’ says Loki, trying to catch his breath, trying to _think_ beyond the – now three – fingers working him open. ‘That mortal cunt – your mortal cunt – ’ 

‘Loki,’ says Thor once, in warning, crooking his fingers and scraping his nails somewhere deep inside. Loki’s knees buckle but Thor’s other hand on his waist catches him, presses Loki’s naked form against his own clothed one to hold him up. 

‘She _will_ ,’ insists Loki, this being the only line of thought he can manage as the slow burn of being stretched crawls up his spine, makes his leaking cock twitch in want of more – something harder, thicker, bigger. 

‘And she will see your debauched form, Loki,’ replies Thor, completely at ease with his flawed logic. ‘Only your filthiness dripping over this boat, only your sick, twisted form.’ 

Humiliation burns in Loki’s stomach, but so does warm pleasure, so does the craving for Thor’s everything on him – his touch, his eyes, his words, his attention, his cock – all of it for Loki’s taking whenever he wants after all these years. He wants Thor to take him apart, wants to be unmade under the touch of lightning and the vibration of thunder. 

‘I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,’ says Loki, a mantra of lies as Thor’s hands retreat entirely, leaving Loki’s hole bereft. 

‘You will learn, Loki,’ murmurs Thor into his brother’s ear, both hands hoisting Loki’s thighs around his waist, unbuckling his armour and undoing his tunic to get his cock out. He strokes it once, twice, laving the precome down the length as a pitiful excuse for lubrication. 

‘Not from you,’ spits Loki in a last attempt for control before giving it all up as he is breached, his brother’s cock sinking into him deep and thick, punching the breath out of him. 

Thor’s hands hold him as Loki throws his manacled wrists over his brother’s head, arms around Thor’s neck, as he feels himself bounce on Thor’s cock. It feels so good – so hot, heavy, _familiar_ – as he is fucked by Thor. 

Loki feels himself let go, his muscles going slack as he only clings for support so Thor can fuck him, do what he likes to his body, use him up as Loki craves to be used up. He wants to be the sole pinpoint of attention for Thor. Not the waves, the winds, the skies, the boat, _Jane_ occupying his powers or attention. 

Only Loki. Only him. 

Thor drives into him with the brutality of a war god, his hips smacking loudly against the back of Loki’s thighs as Loki tilts his hips to take in as much of his brother’s thick cock as he can. His own leaking length rubs between them, pressed against Thor’s smooth armour plating, leaving streaks of precome behind as he is fucked up and up and up again – the dry friction setting Loki’s nerves on fire. 

There’s barely any preparation done before Thor had savagely shoved his cock inside of Loki and Loki wouldn’t have it any other way – his consent found as he moans loud and slutty for it. Loves the way Thor’s cock ruins him inside and out, works his hole open with each thrust. 

Loki’s legs tighten around Thor’s waist in some silent beg for more – wanting Thor to get rougher with him, take him apart with sex and heat and attention – and it has Thor laughing low in his throat. 

‘Still a slut,’ he hums, and Loki bares his teeth as if the title is a compliment rather than an insult. 

‘Would you – ah – have it any o-other way?’ manages Loki, still getting his breath fucked out of him, the burn of Thor’s cock leaving him trying to string his syllables together without getting tongue-tied. Still, his voice is too caught up moaning as he’s fucked rather than conversation, but Thor understands. He always does. 

In a swift motion, Thor pulls out, setting Loki down on his feet, ducking his head from under Loki’s manacles so as not to get caught in them when he turns Loki around and pushes him to his knees. ‘You will have it like this if you want more,’ says Thor – voice rough and ruined. 

Loki laughs and presses his cheek against the deck below, feeling the rocking of the waves hit the side of the boat, hips tilted upwards. ‘Would you stop if I said no?’ 

Thor pushes his cock – a heated, thick piece – into him in one deliberate thrust. ‘No,’ says Thor against the skin of Loki’s neck, before he’s slamming into him, has Loki’s mouth open and drooling as his long fingers claw at the deck for something to hold onto as his brother fucks the life out of him. 

Thor won’t stop, too ruthless and brutal and controlled to stop when he sees Loki fall apart underneath his hips. Loki loves this part of his brother – loves that Thor will only give into Loki through violence anymore. That the tenderness is erased from him as his cock fucks Loki wide open, pressing some place deep inside of him and pulling out only to punch back in. 

His hands are chained, up above his head, and Loki just wants friction on his cock, just wants to come, but Thor won’t let him. Thor will keep him on the edge of whatever precipice he deems fit, and it is everything Loki needs right now – to have all of Thor’s faculties focused on him. 

Thor screws him open one last time, deep and hard and good, before his hand is suddenly on Loki’s cock, stripping the length with his own precome. Loki moans – a punched out sound from his throat – and Thor only fucks him harder for it, makes sure Loki knows how each and every tilt of his hips, arch of his body, sound of his mouth only drives Thor further and further. 

The hand on Loki’s cock is familiar but the way it moves even more heart wrenchingly nostalgic. Thor still knows how to drive Loki to the edge, still understands how the interplay of pain and pleasure coincide and meld in and out of each other in his body, shooting neurons down his spine, making his brain all white noise – no plans, no betrayals, no thoughts left to ponder when Thor has him falling apart at the seams. 

‘Thor,’ gasps out Loki as his orgasm hurtles towards him, the combination of the friction on his dick and the way Thor’s cock pistons in and out of him drives him closer and closer to coming. There is no pause of acknowledgement from his brother, only the renewed sense of vigour as Thor breaks Loki apart through sound and smell and feel. 

‘Thor,’ repeats Loki, and Thor gives in, places soft kisses on the junction on his throat contrasting with the brutality of his thrusts. 

‘Come, then,’ murmurs Thor, scraping his thumbnail over the tip of Loki’s cock, ‘come.’ In hindsight, it’s not the hand on his cock, the soft voice in his ear, or the ramming thrusts that tips Loki over the edge – but the feel of Thor’s mouth on his skin, the gentle kiss on his artery pounding with his rapid heartbeat, that echo of sentimentality and forgiveness and love – Thor’s fucking _love_ – 

He comes in a mess of seed all over the deck, his hole fluttering in aftershocks as he rides his orgasm on Thor’s cock, body and muscles clenching and unclenching as the sensations ripple up his spine. He feels Thor get closer and closer to losing it as well – as the rhythm slurs, gets sloppy and messy and only Thor focusing on the feel of Loki’s tight, hot ass milking his cock. 

He’s too dazed, too fucked out, to think of anything except that Thor’s cock is the heavy, familiar weight in his gut and he wants to feel it again, feel Thor’s orgasm, feel how Loki drove Thor to this point in a mess of arousal, filthiness, and moral depravity. 

And Thor proves him right, grips Loki’s hips and grinds deep into him once, twice, thrice before he’s flooding Loki’s ass with ropes of white come, leaving Loki shivering once more as the sensation of warm semen fills him up. 

Thor pulls out, a little roughly, and the friction catches on the rim of Loki’s flushed hole, making Loki shiver and tighten up. Then there’s a warm hand on his thighs, stroking over his hips, his ribs, down his spine, and his muscles come down, the high dissipating from his veins, and – for a moment – Loki wonders how long he went without such warmth, such adoration. It’s a momentary thought, but the effect of it immediate and he’s shivering away from Thor’s touch, trying to reclaim his autonomy once more. 

Still, Loki doesn’t know how long he lies there, drained and fucked out and now a little cold, but Thor is put together by the time the other has propped himself on his elbows. The golden hair no longer frazzled and limp with sweat, face clear and clean, armour back on and clothes smoothed out. 

‘The seas have ended,’ he says and indeed, if Loki looks over the edge, the horizon of Asgard’s ocean creeps ever closer. Thor continues: ‘I am going below deck to begin our ascent.’ His face is still soft with sex and warmth, so Loki looks away and focuses on the sea salt spray carried by the wind as he uses his paltry magic to clean himself. 

Thus, Thor opens the hatch and crawls downwards, closing it once he’s disappeared below. Loki fits himself back into his clothes and armor, but not before pressing a finger into his entrance and savouring the taste of Thor’s come on his tongue. No – not much has changed at all. 

Jane comes back up from the hatch looking a bit pale and drained, but her supposed seasickness disappears entirely once the oars – almost like wings – arise from the sides of the boat and the world tilts sideways as the ocean is left behind and the wind and sky come rushing at them. 

Her exclamations of surprise echo through the air as she leans forward on the head of the boat, clinging dangerously to the side in her excitement. Loki stands a bit away behind Thor, a dressed and clean observer. 

Thor looks grave once more, standing still and straight-backed, Mjolnir clutched in his fist to calm his anxiety. There is a great gust of wind – tumultuous and whipping the mortal’s hair back – and Loki catches Thor’s glance, his blue eyes serious and mouth pressed. 

Loki’s cock twitches. He decides to play, for now. 

‘Come down from there, doctor,’ he drawls, ‘you can observe from the main deck.’ 

-

**Author's Note:**

> I'm feeling really rusty at this ship, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway.
> 
> x-posted to [tumblr](http://alighterwithlove.tumblr.com/post/57653758031/highway-skies-and-thunder-seas-nc-17-thor).


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